


Bambi

by cheshirebottom (orphan_account)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Sex, Barebacking, First Time, Half-Sibling Incest, Incest, Loss of Virginity, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-14 05:01:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 19,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17502077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/cheshirebottom
Summary: "Why are you doing this?"And there it is."Oh," Harry breathes out, cheeks suddenly red. "I—uhm.""Come on, Haz," Louis urges, "I want you to be honest with me, okay? I won't tell our Dad or your mum—anyone, for that matter. I just really want to know."Harry licks his lips, (which has Louis gripping on his dick harder) and starts biting on his tongue, before eventually saying, "I guess, because I have a...""You have a?" Louis presses mildly, voice soft and husky, looking at his brother intently."Uhm. I have a... I have a crush on you, Lou." Harry is fully blushing now as he states this, gaze completely hooded, as though he's admitting something he's been hiding for forever now. Louis thinks that could be it, because Harry proceeds with this: "I've always had the biggest crush on you, Lou."(or the one where harry and louis are half-siblings, and louis just so happened to hate his younger half-brother's guts; that is until, his heart gets melted, all because bambi's warm and his heart is big, like super big, and the likes of louis just won't stand a chance)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> don't read this, not good for you.

The moment Louis wakes up, he senses Jay is already standing at the corner of his room, looking at him rather apologetically, and is holding a thing he suspects is his suitcase—which is already filled with his clothes, plausibly—for this "family uniting" thing they've been arguing about for almost two weeks now; something Louis doesn't approve of yet Jay and the rest of his sisters had furiously insisted he go for.

And, like, okay. This is exactly what Louis has been dreading about.

He sighs, squinting his eyes at his mum, the sun beams washing through his room.

He knew it. Louis knew he'll never win against Jay and her decisions. Even Charlotte, his sister, the eldest. He swears to God these girls in his life are going to be the death of him.

 _Well then_ , Louis mentally tells himself, rather begrudgingly, as he sits up and lands his feet on the floor,  _he best be getting ready now_ , otherwise yet another debate will start between he and his mum. And he doesn't want that—not in the earliest of the morning, no, thank you very much.

So, Louis starts the day with shoveling down his breakfast and brushing his teeth, thinking that should do it, pinching Phoebe and Daisy's cheeks on his way, as he emerges from the kitchen.

Going back inside his room, Louis starts showering, doing all the crazy morning routines he does, and then afterward changes in his usual "Punks Not Dead attire" as Lottie calls it (a combination of black tank with the words  _Skate Tough_ on it, black skinny jeans that is way too tight for its own good, making his bum rounder, and a pair of blue Adidas sneakers). Louis heads toward the door as soon as he gets down from his room and finishes, bringing only his cellphone and iPod with him.

"I'm really sorry, Boobear," Jay says softly as she follows Louis by the front door, all ready to leave.

Louis takes his suitcase from the side of the door (as he urges himself to ignore the fact his mum has called him that nickname yet again after so many years of stopping), slings the backpack Jay has also prepared for him earlier at each his shoulders, and then leans down to kiss her on the cheek. "'S okay, mum," he tells her, blowing off a sigh. "Just—I'll be fine, yeah? I mean, he's my dad, what could happen? I still am his son after all, and I... I honestly do think he deserves my time too, all grudges set aside."

Lips curling upward, Jay can't help smile warmly at him. "You got that fully right, baby," she utters out, "besides, your father deserves your love too—your presence— _you_. It's been a while, at least get along with the old chap and let things go for the meantime."

Pursing his lips indignantly, Louis all but nods but doesn't say his yes; he opts for turning the doorknob instead, opening the door. Once wide open, immediately, Louis sees an image of a black Cadillac parked in front of their front lawn with the one and only Troy Austin, his father, standing next to it and waiting for him and only him.

Not for his sisters, not for Jay, but only him. Louis can only heave out yet another sigh at this, already feeling anxious just seeing those familiar set of eyes and nose and stance.

 _Troy Austin_ , Louis thinks bitterly,  _why do you want me now after years of practically abandoning me with your favorite weirdo son? You ditched me, didn't you? Why now?_

Turning back to his mum, Louis hugs her tightly for the last time and whispers in her ear, "Bye, mum. See you in a month."

Jay starts sobbing quietly from there, tears rolling down her pink cheeks in quite a fast pace. "I'll see you in a month, yes. Bye, Boo."

Louis closes his eyes tight, refraining himself from crying too.  _He can't_ , he thinks,  _he just can't_. He's a fucking grown up now for fuck's sakes. And if Troy would see him cry now, the man might just get the wrong impression of him—this would be the very first time that they would bond together for a whole month, see—and Louis doesn't want to be the matured guy who still cries like a baby as if they'd lost their candy. Fuck that shit, no way.

Louis and Jay part from their hug eventually. Without glancing back to look at his sobbing mother anymore, Louis immediately wears his Aviator sunglasses and starts jogging his way toward the car where his father is.

Troy opens the door on the passenger side just as soon as he sees his son nearing him, but then, Louis being Louis—the very much biased and distant one—doesn't take that very particular fatherly offer the man displayed, not even acknowledging his existence one bit, no chance of a glance, nothing.

Instead Louis opens the door at the backseat itself, climbs up in, and settles inside together with his suitcase and bag. He slams the door close beside him after that, making sure Troy sees, and then starts looking outside the window rather than him, making a clear point that he doesn't want to speak to him—his father, Troy. Fucking fat chance.

And Troy seems to get it almost right away, what with it causes him clear pain more than anything, though nevertheless deciphering his son's hatred towards him.

Still looking at Louis settled at the backseat of his Cadillac, Troy doesn't dare begin talking to him, asking about how he's been, or really, just anything about him. Well, Louis is very much thankful for that if he's honest, heartaches set aside.

He's all damn good.

♡

Minutely so, while literally no one has yet to start talking between the two of them, still, Troy closes the door at the passenger's side as retaliation, fixes the rear view mirror, and starts finally driving them and out the lot.

Louis heaves out an inaudible sigh of relief with that.

It's been years, see—been literal  _years_  since Troy and Louis have seen each other again. In flesh.

Louis was only seven years young when Troy had left Jay for his other woman, whom Louis knows is called Anne, and had had this other woman pregnant just after months of running away together.

(Which is great—Louis had only cried about that for months. And Louis does not fucking cry. He does not! So that tells a lot. Cool.)

Skipping months onward; after just a year of the fucking-up of one Troy Austin, sobbing each day and night of Jay, regretting, cursing, and so on; as well as by the time Anne had once and for all delivered their first ever son, hers and Troy's, whom Louis had met for only twice yet at this point known as Harry—for the very first time in years, here they are again in this steady yet very much awkward ground and acting as if nothing major had happened. They're at some state here.

Such state where Jay and Troy have finally made up—in just a friendly manner, seeing as Jay has Dan now and has moved on already—as well as a state where Louis' currently with his real father, inside a vehicle, and are on their way to Cheshire, Holmes Chapel from Doncaster to spend a whole month there, prompted by Jay, who's spoken about the whole "getting close to his father, et cetera" thingy with him, for at least two and a half months and the lot.

Louis hasn't a choice, really. He's twenty-three years old now. A proper young adult at that, therefore he knows he has to act like one too. So Louis doesn't dare argue.

This is it. He really is on his way now to Holmes Chapel to deal with his father, his annoying of a half brother, and the other woman of his father, whom he didn't get the chance of ever knowing even when he had the time to do so prior.

And—joy, Louis thinks sardonically, sounds a whole lot of a damn fucking fun.

If only he can fast forward time.

On a wholly different matter,

That annoying of a half brother Louis is pertaining to who's better known as Harry, truly is annoying by the way. Well, for Louis he is at least, because damn does he have such a smart mouth. He annoys Louis to no end, and no one can deny the looks of that, not even Troy himself.

For Louis, he's irritating and dumb and stupid and childish.

And if it isn't obvious yet, Louis dislikes his half brother to the fullest. He finds him weird and dorky, which Louis is a complete opposite of quite frankly.

On top of that, Harry is the family's favorite—is always is. Ever since Harry came into the picture, Louis has been left forgotten. Harry had right away been the apple of everyone's eyes. It's Harry this, Harry that—the pretty boy Harry this, the Bambi-eyed Harry that.  _It's always about Harry!_

From Jay and Lottie to Anne and Troy, Harry is the cutest. The most precious. And even so, to their other relatives and the like. Louis hates it that things are the way they are.

Despite all that, however, Louis still wonders how Harry is now. He still is his brother after all, isn't he?

Whatever.

As the ride goes on, Troy opts for a conversation after some time, one that Louis would definitely avoid to have. "So, uh, Louis," he says, "how have you been, son? We haven't spoken for a while. How's Uni and everything?" He gives Louis a warm welcoming smile all the way from the rear view mirror, adjusting the gear stick as he turns a corner.

At the back, Louis genuinely doesn't hear him. He's got his earphones in, as it is. Troy notices that, but instead of pressing in, he closes his mouth and carries on driving, a frown painted across his lips.

Closing his eyes, Louis tries his best to enjoy the ride and leans back, shutting the world itself altogether.

♡

By the time Louis opens his eyes, there's a few things he takes notice of in his surroundings. One of which being their car pulled over into a stop, Troy unbuckling his seatbelt, and then some loud laughter and chatters of children going round and about, filling in the now opened car door from upfront.

Louis peers over to catch Troy's attention with this, taking his earphones off and tuning off  _The Killers_. He asks his father, "Where are you off to?"

Troy pauses and turns around before walking away from the car, startled more than any. "Oh, Louis, hey." He smiles widely at his son, making Louis feel all sorts of weird from the inside. "I'm just going to collect Bambi—oh, I mean, Harry. I left him here in this playground earlier before I've driven to yours."

Right.  _Bambi_. Of course. Louis just nods in understanding hearing that, settles back down again and decides to just wait inside the car, crossing his arms against his chest.  _Here goes the pesky little one_ , he thinks begrudgingly.

Troy walks away from the curb, starting toward the red and blue tiny gates by the park where they've stopped at, one that's leading to the playground itself.

Minutes later, Troy eventually comes walking out the tiny gates, not alone this time though, but with a lanky boy next to him, holding his right hand and swinging it as they walk.

And that lanky boy is Harry.

As soon as they reach the car and Troy has opened the door to the driver's seat, Louis' entire senses get filled in an instant of such scent he can't quite pinpoint as to what—it's just  _strange_. And sweet.

Louis inhales, hooked, hearing his younger brother's slow and deep murmurings, talking about all the craps and nonsensical things that have apparently happened during those times Louis and Troy were alone in the car and were driving over here.

"Can you believe it?" Harry guffaws as he rambles away, facing his father. "As I was saying, dad. There was a kitty there, right, and it looked so small... and fluffy. But, like, it was alone. I tried to take it with me, but I know you and mum wouldn't approve, so like—I kind of just, like—I just left it there."

Not hearing any reply from their father, Louis can just imagine how Troy must be coming off speechless with a fond smile plastered across his face as he looks at  _his precious Bambi_. Psh. Louis knows this shit already.

Feeling his brother pausing halfway with his story, Louis hears him take a sharp intake of breath, finally summoning Louis to comment about it, can't quite control himself.

"Still a slow-talker, I see," he murmurs from where he sits, gaze lowered down to his lap, not really paying that much attention to neither Harry nor Troy by the door.

Louis can feel his father looking over at him, no words spoken. Yet. Louis wants to roll his eyes.

But then, "And you know what's even worse, dad—," comes Harry's cut short sequel of his tale telling, changing the air altogether.

Louis then finally looks over at them at the brief sound of that, but it's only toward Harry that he specifically directs it, which—whoa. What the hell?

Louis blinks in surprise, and Troy must've noticed that because he clears his throat and signals that Louis quit the gawking at his brother.

Because the thing is, Harry is... he's changed. For only a few years, he did. Louis for a second there almost actually didn't recognize him. He looks... rather soft and young and feminine? White, milky skin, brown soft-looking shoulder-length curls, reddish plump lips, and wide, green  _Bambi_ eyes. And, what the actual heck? How did his father and Anne raise this child anyway? They practically turned him into some sort of—

A flowerchild!

Oh, Louis knows a flowerchild when he sees one. And Harry definitely is one. He wonders what kind of music Harry listens to though, and why he's thought of that before anything else, Louis doesn't know.

Again, whatever, though.

But anyway, Louis knows he has to gather back his composure and paste his stern facial features once again. For the sake of rebelling—looking like wanting to be someplace else but here.

He needs to express just how much he dislikes this side of the family—these people.

Right.

Harry and Louis stare at each other for a while, eyebrows furrowing, lips pursing; slowly now, Harry gapes as he recognizes his older brother, whereas Louis only decides upon looking rather cold and blank and unfriendly.

With that, Troy clears his throat yet again, making Harry snap out of it and glance up at him.

And the truth is, Harry hasn't a single idea that Louis is actually coming home with them. It is only now he's finding it out—coming face to face with it.

"Bi, son," Troy begins as he pats Harry atop the head, ruffling his curls and tucking some curly strands behind his ear, causing Harry to lower his head down, is suddenly blushing for some odd reason. "I'm sorry I forgot to tell you, Bi. It was meant to be a surprise, after all. Uh, Louis, your brother, is having a month vacation in our home. His mother's insisted he come with us, so... surprise?" Troy squints up around a sheepish smile, waiting cautiously at his favorite son's reaction to all this.

Harry is still gaping at the sight of his big ole brother seated at the backseat of the car, his pink lips parted in mild shock, and his green eyes wide open and glassy and big. He truly  _is_  surprised about this.

He hasn't seen Louis for years, see.  _Years_. And Harry is just a child, both mentally and physically; he tends to miss people quite genuinely and a lot. Most especially his older brother, his father's other son. It's all like a big whiplash on his part.

The fact that Harry has no other siblings other than Louis and Gemma makes this even more sensible, adding the fact that Harry is probably the most sweetheart known out there, very loving towards all of his family members, that and all. So yeah, he misses Louis. And (forgive Harry, but) quite frankly, it's weird seeing him again like this, so out of the blue, on his end.

Another thing too; after years of not having seen his older brother, Harry must say Louis has changed physically.

From a thin, smooth, tan-skinned hairless boy with the soft swept to side fringe, suddenly he's looking like a... like a very grown young adult, all handsome and rugged, biceps on point, and has toned and inked skin.

He is also still a bit tan, his hair disheveled—like an iconic symbol himself, and well, this is just all too much for Harry to take, hence he's all whoa inside his head as he stares at Louis.

 _He's so punk_ , Harry thinks to himself.

And to put it simply, Louis has grown. He has grown, and Harry is very much overwhelmed. He doesn't know what to say, what to do with himself.

Harry gulps, the lump on his throat bobbing up and down—quite obviously for that matter—and furrows his eyebrows, looking like he's lost.

Oh, this is going to be loads weird.

♡

Keeping himself from breaking into a smile at the awestruck sight of his silly little brother upon seeing him, Louis bites on his lip in order to perfectly prevent that.

He doesn't want to appear joyous about all this, see. He doesn't even want to smile one bit; again, Harry or Troy might just get the wrong impression of him regarding them. A wrong thing that falls under the possibility of him already finding this "family uniting" thing after all a good and rather worthy of idea.

Which is not. It is not, okay? And just to make things clear, Louis doesn't—he simply does not find this a good idea at all.  _He hates his father_ , he reminds himself mentally, and he is certain he is annoyed of his pesky little brother.

Right. So.

Seemingly gathering himself back to normality, Harry retaliates eventually by opening the door at the backseat—where Louis is sitting alone, that is—and settles right in, taking Louis' bag and suitcase carefully, and then placing them at the utmost back of the Cadillac as he leans back down.

Louis has the decency to side eye the kid taking a seat next to him, who is now turning to face him just a bit, as well as who is yet still staring at him in such an awed way, green eyes painted in wonderment, mouthy self just now completely shut off. Well, that's odd.

But what's odder, though, is Louis finding it in himself to think that the Harry now is a bit...

He swallows mentally. He swallows some more because in his head he's realizing that Harry is a bit cuter now than before.

But like, he doesn't—will  _never_ —admit it though, because anyone in the world would probably think that's weird; Louis finding his own fucking brother cute? Seriously?

Yeah, right, that's just fucked up. Utterly, indisputably fucked up.

Pissed with himself, Louis proceeds to gaze down on his lap, just choosing upon ignoring Harry altogether. It'd be best for everyone.

Cocking an eyebrow at the commotion and utterly strange exchange between his sons, Troy dreads a possible feud starting between them two—what with Harry's staring his brother down, which should be rude somehow, and Louis being all neglecting towards his brother, which is also downright rude.

Truthfully, Troy has always been aware about Louis' blatant dislike towards Harry, even when Harry's barely a kid back then and Louis' barely a teen himself. The older boy just never liked the younger boy as it is, and Troy will probably never understand just why that is.

No matter, though, Troy knows he has to separate the two to avoid tensions during the ride to Holmes Chapel for later on, so he says, "Bi, why are you sitting at the back? You love taking shotgun, remember?"

Hearing that, Harry blinks, tearing his awing gaze away from Louis beside him, and looks over to his father at the front. "Uh, no," he utters out, voice small and deep. Probably noticing himself spacing, Harry clears his throat and smiles big. "I—I mean, I'll just take shotgun next time, dad! I just really wanted to sit here for now, thanks." He sighs, slumping back down on the leather seat.

"Well, alright then... If you say so, son," Troy eventually says, sounding a bit hesitant.

Harry goes back to beaming again after that, having his father allow him. The Spoiled Baby.

Louis hardly says a word in regards to that, purses his lips and decides to just lean back on his seat, wait until he can finally lie down on a real bed later, just as soon as they'd reach their exact destination.

Back to Troy, however; the man knows he shouldn't be feeling awkward around Louis at all, since he is the father here and all, but.

But in spite of himself, he's aware about what Louis may be feeling about all of this now rather than earlier before—especially now that his Bambi is here and that Louis may or may not be finding him invading, weird—and therefore just go straight home right now, back out on this "family get-together" thing and never come back, because what do you know, Louis is all grown up now. He can decide for his own now, so going home by himself shouldn't really be a question no more; he can execute it anytime he might want.

Well, Troy truly hopes he won't, though, because what Troy really wants is for everything to work out for them all—between he and Louis, between Louis and Harry—and just between the entirety of them all, even Anne.

He just wishes Louis wouldn't feel any bothered at all.

He just wishes Harry wouldn't be a burden to him for now.

He just wishes Louis would learn to get used to them somehow.

♡

Along the car ride, once again, Harry becomes his "turtle self" as Louis now prefers it, talking to their father quite obnoxiously for he's got no one else to speak with (because at this point he and Louis are yet to speak to each other), both of his slim arms wrapped around his father's headrest and upfront.

Louis is not listening to them chat, because he would rather just sit quietly and relax himself, gaze directed out the window, and look at the outside world instead. Best to lay off, he tells himself, let the son and the father have the best bonding of their lives. He tries not to gag at that.

This kind of state of aura around them three goes on for a while—a long while—and until they get to the point of eventually running out of gas.

That leaves Troy to be in depth of stopping for filling up the car again then, which results them in immersing wholly into a pit stop.

♡

Louis and Harry stay where they are while the gas tank gets filled up.

Troy has announced he'll be dropping by the convenience store minutes ago, reasoning about getting everyone something to munch on for the rest of the car ride later, therefore it's another round of waiting for the half siblings—the two of them alone together.

As Louis opts for listening to some music again, what with there's really nothing else in the market to occupy himself with while they wait, he fishes out his iPod only to be disappointed, because apparently, the battery's long drained. "Shit," he curses under his breath. He has the immediate urge to turn and face Harry without having to stop himself. "Do you own an iPod?" he asks in a haste.

Harry, who was just about unwrapping a strawberry flavored lollipop, gets caught off-guard with this, green eyes wide and rosy cheeks going rosier. "Huh?" is all he mutters out, utterly dumbfounded.

Louis sighs. "Oh, never mind, just-"

"No, no, no," Harry cuts him off, shaking his head. "Wait, I, uh, actually do, but it's—," Harry fishes out his phone from his pocket and hands it over to Louis, practically chucking it over his lap, all because he's shaking silly, "—there you go. I only listen using my mobile phone. 'S all dad's bought me, said he'll buy me an iPod and a tablet and, err, I think he said something about a laptop, later on when I'm finally 16. So, yeah."

Louis raises an eyebrow, picks up Harry's phone on his lap and inspects it, not because he doesn't think he'll fancy using it, but because of realizing that this must be the first ever most casual words he and Harry have ever exchanged to one another over the years they've known the existence of the other. Louis supposes it's the most pathetic thing ever.

Looking at his younger brother, Louis makes a show of being grateful for the phone offered, plugs his earphones in the small hole, and then starts scrolling through Harry's lists of songs. As he does just that, Louis can't help notice that Harry's songs are mostly by  _Adele, Ed Sheeran, Katy Perry and Beyoncé._

He manages a smile, thinking how quirky Harry really must be. Like who even in his 13 years young would listen to such? Let alone he's a boy? Right, well, hold it. Truthfully, there's no gender that should be involved when it comes to music, but... Louis seriously can't help it.

Thinking about it, Adele is actually quite alright, so is Ed Sheeran, but Katy Perry and Beyoncé for Harry? Really?

Louis looks up to his brother again, this time with a smile gracing his lips. "Thank you," he tells him. And Harry just shrugs, bites on his lower lip, and then swiftly looks away. His curls bounce, from cheeks and down to his throat flushed pink.

Louis thinks that's kind of odd (and cute), but he doesn't call Harry out on it. He comes to his senses that maybe Harry is just really shy around him.

For now.

Maybe. Probably.

Whatever. Louis listens to Katy Perry's Ur So Gay, because he is one anyway. No pun intended. Despite there's no pun. Lol.

After a while, Louis notices Troy is taking quite long, so taking his earphones off for the third time, he reaches out to Harry and pokes the kid on the arm. Harry glances at him, cheeks all rosy pink again, strangely so, making Louis force himself of not asking about why the heck that is.

Instead he asks, "Why is dad taking so long?"

"You mean, my dad," Harry says rather offhandedly, has seemingly corrected him, not fancying the way it sounds. But what the hell was that for, though, Louis puzzles... Letting it slide for now, Louis watches Harry peering over outside. "I don't know," Harry mumbles absently, "Maybe he's just looking for the snacks he knows I love. No biggie. He'll come 'round soon, probably."

Louis nods. "Okay," he says slowly, suspicious, gaze never leaving his little brother. Harry seems to take a note of this - this quizzical look Louis is giving him - making him bite on his pink lower lip, as well as making him look down on his lap, cheeks flushed.

And, wow, now Louis understands it now - gets it.

Smirking to himself, Louis thinks he's finally got what his weirdo of a brother's weakness is.

It's him. Louis is his brother's weakness. He can use himself against him. Cool.

"A-anyway, I think dad will come here any moment now," Harry stutters shyly, going back to their latest topic, "I—I mean, he—uh, I—"

Harry slowly looks up at Louis, eyelids still a bit lowered down, teeth still biting at his lower lip.

Immediately, Harry catches Louis looking at him with a lopsided smirk plastered across his lips, making himself seem seductive and intimidating in a flirtatious way, just so he can mess with his younger brother. The Bastard.

Louis is doing it on purpose. Of course, he is.

Eyes widening, as though butterflies just weirdly erupted at the pit of his tummy, Harry instantaneously whips his head straight ahead, looking like he's forcing his self not to piss his mini shorts right here and now.

And just why his brother is acting this way, Louis hasn't an iota, but he knows to his heart that he likes it. Everything about it. He's in control of his little brother.

Louis clears his throat, causing Harry to stiffen on his spot. "Hey, Bambi," he murmurs huskily.

"Y-yeah?"

"Why do you have Katy Perry and Beyoncé on your phone?" He asks it in a teasing way. Great.

Harry's head snaps up and looks at him. "KP?" he blurts, "I—I mean, Katy Perry?" He quickly corrects himself, sounding shy. "I... I do?"

Louis wiggles his eyebrows blithely, icy blue eyes twinkling in mischief. "Yup," he pops the  _p_ , "And why is that? You love their songs, don't you?"

Harry's full on blushing now, lips forming into a pout. "I... do. I mean, is that, uh, a bad thing? I mean, Beyoncé is good. She's really awesome. And Katy, she's... I love her songs. 'Makes me feel me."

Louis nods, feigning nonchalance. "I see," he simply says. And then, "Are you gay, Harry?"

"G-gay?" Harry stammers now, suddenly going defensive. "What?"

"Yes, Haz.  _Gay_ ," Louis nods and emphasizes, smug smile on his lips. "You know, like, boy to boy, loving each other? Two boys snogging, both boys wanking each other's dicks, both boys having sex, licking each other's cocks? Same males swallowing each other's comes, all that, no?"

Harry, at this point, has his heart stuck on his mouth. Louis is Satan.

Seeing that extremely ashamed face Harry is sporting right across his youthful features, Louis opts for going further, drag on the topic of blow jobs, hand jobs, deepthroating and anal rimming; and just the tad discussion of having gay sex in general. Poor Harry couldn't be more out of place or the other way around. Louis truly is Lucifer himself.

The moment Louis goes down such filthy route where there's an involvement of kinks, fetishes and sex toys, sweet angel little Harry begins touching himself, eyes blowing dilated, mouth letting out soft moans - and yes. Yes, Bambi has gone horny. He's got his dick hardening against his washed blue denim shorts.

"L-Lou," Harry croaks out, palming his dick through the fabric over his fly. "Stop it, s-stop."

Louis doesn't, won't. In fact, that's only made him carry on some more. He's now at the masturbation part of the tale.

After some time, Louis pauses and states, "Sexually frustrated, aren't you, Bambi girl?"

And Harry nods vigorously, cheeks extremely pink, eyes hooded with lust, lips parted, feeling so, so damn horny. Louis wolfish smirk deepens.

Victorious, Louis thinks of himself now.

Just when Louis decides that should be the end of that—with Harry being left unsatisfied and confused and horny wise frustrated—Louis thinks about leaning back against his seat, when—

—sweet baby Bambi's grabbed on his crotch.

Louis' eyes instantaneously go big. "What the— Harry, what the hell do you think you're doing?" he rushes out in shock, averting frantically his gaze toward Harry's face and then on his milky white hand that's grasping his cock through his tight black jeans.

"Not so fast, Lou," Harry breathes out, almost sounding moaning. Louis shoots him a pointed look, frozen to his spot. "You—I need—" And Harry can't coherently make a statement anymore, it seems. He's so turned on and damn high he can't see straight, can't talk straight.

"What is it?" Louis hisses at the poor kid, looking around to see if Troy is somewhere in sight. Looking at Harry again, quite sharply now for that matter, he swats the kid's hand off of his crotch. "What do you want from me, Harry?" Louis bites out.

Harry doesn't answer him; he just palms himself through the fabric of his mini shorts, to which Louis can't help witness—this, his little brother touching himself. And Louis begins sweating madly from there, because the thing is, Harry looks... rather hot doing it. Obscene, sinful and is such a massive turn-on. All the tension, all the beads of sweat; it has to do with the sight of Harry looking so awfully red and undeniably horny. The part where he's slightly sweating, mouth so huge parting slowly, huffing off bits of breaths like this.

And shit, damn it, Louis curses in his head. Why is he even finding this hot? He's had a fair share of casual and kinky sex in his life, it can't be that he's coming off sexually frustrated himself.

 _No_ , Louis scolds himself,  _quit the craving_!

But then, "Lou," Harry murmurs, explicitly moans out, as he continues on to rub at his crotch. "Louis...Lou...uh...Lou," Harry continues on, making it rather impossible for Louis to do the right thing.

"What the actual fuck?" Louis hisses with his teeth gritted. "Oi, Harry! What do you think you're doing? Troy— _Dad_ , I mean—"

" _My_  dad," Harry corrects him hastily, voice quite groggy for Louis' liking. "My dad..."

"What the hell do you mean your dad?" Louis quizzes exasperatedly. "And can you please quit saying my name while touching yourself? Jesus, Harry. Why are you even touching yourself?" Louis is getting thoroughly frustrated now, pulling at his hair.

"Lou," Harry carries on, however, still touching himself, throwing his head back against the headrest, and—damn, Louis finally gives up. He just gives up. That normally milky white throat all flushed is just—a fucking sight.

Louis sighs, defeated and deflated. "Harry," he lets out sternly. Harry looks up at him with the way he's sounded, eyes hazy, mouth open. "Come here," Louis commands, tone of voice soft, partly deciding upon compromising.

Nodding frantically, Harry quickly scoots closer to Louis. Louis' heartbeat quickens at that all the same.

Prying Harry's hand from his crotch, Louis himself touches that for Harry in return. Harry shivers at the exhilarating contact. Just what he wants exactly; Louis doing it for him.

Looking alertly around for their father, Louis fastens his pace and quickly unzips Harry's fly for him, pulls out his dick and starts pumping on it. Harry's body involuntarily leans back at that, starts relaxing around such shivering goodness, and joins the rhythm of Louis' smooth, delicate hand working on the semi he's long sported.

"Ah..." Harry moans, eyes rolling at the back of his head, such unexplainable yet pleasurable feeling flooding his system. "Lou, that—Lou that feels so— _ah—_ good."

"Shut up," Louis snaps at him. "Don't think I'll ever do this to you again, you hear me?"

Harry feigns nonchalance, ignorance. "Oh, Louis..." he continually moans instead.

Louis bites on his lower lip, hand still wrapped around Harry's dick, still pumping up and down on it dryly yet well-experienced and fast. "Oh, fuck it," he eventually gives in, "Whatever."

After a few more pumps, Louis, having glanced at the direction where their father is already on sight and walking towards the car, has him eventually letting Harry come in his hand, white semen squirted all over his mini shorts, others sticking at the back of the passenger's seat. Louis quickly lets go of Harry's dick and puts it back in his underwear, zips his shorts back up, and leans back down. That was close.

By the time Troy climbs inside the car, Harry is still red and dazed from just coming, still horny at best, green eyes still blown dilated. He looks so high it hurts Louis' chest literally.

"Did I miss something here?" Troy asks, smile visible on his lips as he puts down a bunch of grocery bags at the passenger's seat, gaze flicking back and forth between his sons.

Harry doesn't answer at his question, can't quite decipher any statements thrown yet, so Louis clears his throat and answers this on their behalf. "Uh, no. Nothing, just—erm, Harry and I, we listened to some music in his phone. Some Nineteen Seventy-five, Coldplay, all that. Cause, like, mine kind of ran out of power, so."

Troy nods happily, glad to know his sons are finally starting to get along. "I see, I see. Okay, that's great," Troy chimes, smiling. "Anyway, here. I bought you guys some Ice pops."

Harry snaps out of it when Louis nudges his thigh. "Bambi. Ice pops. Dad. Go."

"Oh, yeah, right," Harry stumbles out, surging forward and taking the purple Ice pop from Troy, to which Troy turns quizzical about, but fortunately for Louis doesn't say a thing.

Louis opts for ending the conversation by taking the other Ice pop then, for the better, and settles back on his usual position; which is looking out of the window.

Troy starts driving them after that.

♡

Louis and Harry don't talk during the next few minutes they're on the road.

And the keyword actually is only minutes, because before Louis knows it, Harry is yet again scooting closer to his side, trailing his tiny fingertips along his thigh and his inner thighs, and is once again palming his dick through the denim fabric of his jeans.

Louis' throat completely dries, because fucking bollocking shitshitshit.  _Whatever the fuck his 13-year old little brother is desperately trying to do to him, seriously!_

Swallowing hard, Louis looks at his brother sharply and swats his hand off his immensely bulging crotch. "Harry," he hisses, voice hushed down yet sharp enough to cut, cerulean glossy eyes wide. "What the hell?" He scolds the kid.

Then again, Harry doesn't seem fazed, not acknowledging Louis entirely, because just as hasty as he's swatted the younger boy's hand off his crotch, the faster it's come back to where he's exactly taken it off. It seems that Harry doesn't want to ever stop, even if their father is just inches away from them—is literally  _with them_ inside the car.

From here on, Louis realizes he's doomed.

He's the one who's started this after all. Fuck.

Harry's hand on his groin has started to feel good now, he takes note of, has began to oddly feel right—and Louis really, really is fucked now.

"Lou," Harry whispers, "hey."

Louis looks down on his younger brother. "What?" he whispers right back. He's whispering back. He's fucking whispering back, Jesus, he's liking this.

"I'll do the same thing you did to me earlier, okay? Look out for Dad." With that said, Harry unzips Louis' fly, pulls out his big flushed cock—all angry and red, rock hard, already leaking of pre-come—and starts admiring it firsthand.

He's fucking admiring it. What the hell, Louis thinks nervously, how did this happen to his life all the damn sudden? Why can't he resist his "pesky" little brother all the sudden?

As Harry carries on admiring it, already grasping it greedily with his tiny hand, Harry looks up at Louis and smiles wickedly. And oh,  _dimples._  Louis almost forgot those deep craters. Shit, he looks so - fucking adorable. He's finding his own fucking half brother  _adorable!_ Louis can only gulp around his worries, blue eyes averting from Harry to Troy, vise versa. They can't be caught, otherwise they're dead.

So, shtick. Louis decides they need one.

"How—how old are you now, Harry?" Louis asks, voice an octave higher rather than it normally is; good thing Trot doesn't notice. All the man knows is his sons are getting to know each other better, and that is why he isn't interfering anyway.

"Thirteen," Harry supplies conversationally, already pumping on his cock, slow and lazy, smooth yet inch by inch halting. Louis' cock is just too thick and too big for the tiny hand of sweet little Harry. "And you?"

Louis swallows, beads of sweat forming at the roots of his hair, some dribbling down his temples. Damn. "Twenty-three, Haz. I—oh—I'm twenty-three."

Harry nods, licking his lips. "Uni?"

"Mhmm, yeah... almost done. And you?" Louis asks around a muffled groan, teeth biting at the tip of his tongue, keeping himself from letting out a proper moan.

"Uhm... I'll be attending High School this fall," Harry murmurs, is now going fast with his work, giving his older brother a proper hand job now.

And their pretend brotherly Q and A goes on for a while, with Troy focused on driving and bobbing his head up and down to the sound of  _The Beach Boys_ —thank God for that—with Harry working on Louis' achingly hard cock, and lastly with Louis leaning back down, quite already at the verge of coming.

After a few more pumps, (Harry using both of his hands now just to cover the rest of Louis' length), Louis soon comes in his pale white palms, some splattering on Harry's agape mouth since he's ducked low and facing Louis' cock, and then some colliding against Louis' palm—because he's waited for it to happen, so he'd have the rest taken care of.

When it's finally over, Louis cautiously zips back his jeans as he looks tentatively at Troy. Old chap's not looking, so he turns back to his little brother instead.

"That would be the last time," he once again hisses at child, eyebrows furrowed, the tone of his voice sharp and absurdly serious.

Harry looks up at him and blinks, licks his lips wet, and—shrugs.  _Harry only shrugs_. The Careless Little Shit.

"Hmm... I don't know, Lou. No promises on that," Harry tells him, nonchalant, very inconsiderate about this whole thing, about this fucked-up thing they've already started and shared. "I mean I don't know just when I'd need it again."

And what? "What?" Louis bites out, right hand gripping his crotch—his yet again hardening, bulging crotch.

Harry is fucking turning him on. Again. Fuck.

Harry opens his mouth—to speak—but closes it again right after. Louis finds it strange, though yet he doesn't dare look anywhere else than Harry. The kid might just do something again to his cock, and Louis isn't sure he'd want that. Not right now—not when Troy is paying attention to them again.

Just then, however,

"I'm sleepy," Harry states softly, yawning and stretching both his arms wide, too wide that it pushes Louis' chest, forcing him to lean back on his seat. Louis makes an inaudible  _oomph_ sound.

"Oi, Harry," Louis admonishes him because of that, eying his little brother sideways.

"What?" Harry asks innocently, facial features resembling a cute feigning innocence kitten, lips turned upward. "I'm just gonna make you my pillow, alright? No big deal, Lou-Bear."

 _Lou-Bear? How punk_. Louis blushes in embarrassment. If Zayn was here, he would've probably laughed so hard at Louis.

Scooting close—too close for comfort—Harry situates his head on Louis' lap as he closes his eyes. Louis looks on as his long eyelashes hover over his rosy cheeks, popping his cherry red lips twice before pursing them shut. He curls himself up on the backseat still seeking for the best position for a nap, and then he turns around so his nose and face are facing Louis' crotch, smirking when he felt Louis shiver. Talk about lack of space, Louis thinks.

Minutely so, Harry begins dozing.

Louis isn't able to protest now, both hands lifted up high in the air, seemingly making room for the kid like instinct, gaze locked on the little boy taking a rest on his lap.

And, see?

This—this is what Louis has been dreading ever since Harry had been born and had started to perfect all the pros and cons in regards to melting people's hearts. Apple of everyone's eye, this flowerchild.

And so it dreads him. Frightens him even. This, Louis, having his very own heart melted under Harry's spell right fucking now, just like with what happened to the others; their dad, Gemma, Lottie, Jay, Anne, and who the fuck knows who else.

However, though, in their case, Louis and Harry's; it is made in a whole lot different pretty fucked-up way.

Which, _how lovely_ , Louis thinks.

## ♡

It's already dark out the moment they reach Troy and Anne's house.

Harry is still asleep on Louis' lap by the time it happens, the kitten boy drooling all over his lap, keeping Louis sitting still on his spot. Troy has already clambered out the car by this second, has rounded it, and is opening their car door at their side.

"Here," Troy says, reaching out. "Let me carry your brother—"

"No," Louis almost instantly says, as though something precious will be taken away from him for some non-explainable reason, hand gripping Troy's wrist. "I—I got him, dad—"

"No, Lou, it's alright, son. Let me carry him for you; he's got quite bigger now which makes him heavy, you see. I don't want our guest struggling." Smiling and is pretty much oblivious, Troy quips suggestively, "Why don't you just go get our groceries, eh, Louis? Also your things in the trunk. I've got this."

Just like that, Troy takes a sleeping soundly Harry from Louis' lap, (sleep-drool sticking across Louis' crotch), and takes the kid with him and inside the house. Louis in the end just watches them go, gaze fixated on Harry's legs that are dangling lifeless on Troy's left arm, pink socks and white shoes stark against the dim of the night.

He's all sorts of youthful...

Louis doesn't know whatever the hell has happened to his stone cold self just earlier from now, but for some reason, he doesn't want to let go of his little brother anymore. It's all just there now, like it just kind of happened—without his will and acknowledgment—which makes him quiz, is this what's happened to Lottie back then as well?

Lottie used to dislike Harry too, he knows this, even glared at the kid countless times way back when like a loser... but that was until Harry made her laugh for the first time with such a lame banana joke, complimented her hair to be so full and long, and then poorly braided it for her, and—

Harry's probably a virus that conquers one's heart, Louis realizes now, owns it and captures it, and Louis' becoming a coward because of that. He knows Harry's on his way to capture his heart too, and Louis' getting spooked just by the thought of it.

Sighing and clambering out the Cadillac, Louis rounds it to go get his bag and his suitcase at the back; he later on snatches their groceries from earlier this afternoon and walks toward the Austins' front yard.

Having gone inside the threshold, Anne warmly welcomes Louis with a smile. She hugs him with all her might, tender and mild, to which Louis gives back all the same. She isn't that bad after all—Jay's told him about Anne, said she's a great mum. Louis supposes that's true.

And why is it that it is only now Louis' seeing the full-on resemblances she shares with Harry and Gemma anyway? Like her nose, her smile, her eyes... Hey, no wonder Harry is a beauty himself. He's far too good-looking than Louis' own sisters combined. (He won't let them know that though). But well, his sisters and Harry aren't biologically related anyhow, so. That must be it.

💖

After Troy has put down Harry on his room, he goes to check on Louis next, leading him up the stairs and unlocking the door to their guest room. "This will be your room for now, son," Troy tells him, cautious and polite as ever. "I hope it's all right."

Louis looks around. The room itself is not small, not that huge either, but just right; it has a telly in it, a massive bed that probably can fit at least two persons, and a bedside table with a lampshade, some old vintage books on the side of them.

It's not much, but Louis is more than okay with it, so he turns around to smile at Troy, thank the old man. Troy is grateful for that.

After exchanging goodnight's, Troy takes off and Louis walks inside the room, while he simultaneously strips out of his clothes, shutting the door behind him, and then flopping down to his newly temporary bed all for the month to end.

The bed dips as he lies. It's very comfy. He thinks he could get used to this.

As the night drags on, and with Louis already tucked underneath the covers—no clothes on other than his tight black briefs—he shifts sideways to face the door and listen as the movements and commotions from the outside hallways happen before him. Just because he thought he's heard his name being mentioned is all, that is.

"Where is he, daddy? Did he leave already?" It's Harry and his surprisingly high-pitched voice. He's finally woken up from his slumber in the car moments ago. "I didn't even get to say thank you! And—and goodbye!"

Louis' heart flutters in his chest at the way Harry's voice is sounding—it's like quivering, as though the kid is about to cry.

"Don't be absurd now, Bi, your brother isn't going anywhere. He's just in the guest room—hey,  _hey_ , Hershel! Where do you think you're going, little one?"

"To Louis, dad! I'm gonna go see if he really is in the guest room!"

"Oh, no, you won't. Louis must be asleep now. You can see him in the morning."

Harry whines. "But, dad—"

"No, buts, Harry. Now go back to your room and try to get back to sleep."

There's a lot of groaning and whining after that said, loud stomps of kid's footsteps travelling across the hallway, and then lastly some slam of one door creating an eruption; they all make Louis snicker unwillingly to himself.

A few more ticks of the clock's bigger hand later, Louis at once drifts off to sleep.

♡

Involuntarily thinking it's already morning, Louis' senses wake up; wanting to let out a yawn, Louis' eyes snap open when he's let out a moan instead.

Coming all the way down from in between his thighs, Louis feels something wet in an instant, something that seems to be someone else's head underneath the covers bobbing up and down before him, and his dick feeling sticky and hard, and—

—and until realization once and for all slaps Louis right across the face. Louis pushes the duvet off him in a rush, heart pumping wildly against his chest.

Just as he thought.

Harry.

The little sweet baby Harry who has his cock inside his mouth; the little boy whose pink plump lips, big and wide, wrapped around his shaft, tongue sliding across the underside of his length, the one who's got his small hand grasping the lower part of his thickening cock. Fuck.

Watching the scene in front of him, Louis notices how the little boy can't seem to swallow him wholly down, since the back of the kid's throat is not entirely enough with just how big his cock is, making him curse more inside his head, eyes going big at the sight of that. And fuck it to hell if Harry would gag, Louis regards as well, because that—that would probably kill him more inside.

Back on the issue at hand, though; Bambi's giving him head during his sleep?

"Harry," Louis squeaks, eyes wide and glassy and hazy, mouth agape and cheeks red. He's fucking turned on, an immediate interpretation. "What are you—what are you doing here? How did you even get in?"

Surging down, Harry ignores his now awakened brother beforehand and tries his best to not gag as Louis' dick reaches the back of his throat. Going back up, Harry releases Louis' length from his drooling mouth with a  _pop_ , and then looks up at him from his crouched down position—right exactly there, from in between Louis' spread out legs. Wow.

"Your door isn't locked, that's why I got in. And then I noticed you don't wear pajamas when sleeping, so I might or might not have seen your naked body." He shrugs, proceeding, "It made me hard, so... uhm, I kind of touched myself again." At this point, Harry's cheeks have gone the deep shade of pink. Louis bites on his own lip at that. "And uhm, after that I tried doing this. What do you call this anyway?"

"Bi, it's... it's called a blow job," Louis answers softly yet hesitantly. Harry only nods in understanding, wiping his chin off drool. Sitting up slowly as he holds his throbbing cock in his hand, Louis properly faces Harry and forcibly turns serious. "I need to ask you a question, Harry."

Harry grins slyly, ever the innocent. "Sure, Lou."

"Why are you doing this?"

And there it is.

"Oh," Harry breathes out, cheeks suddenly red. "I—uhm."

"Come on, Haz," Louis urges, "I want you to be honest with me, okay? I won't tell our Dad or your mum—anyone, for that matter. I just really want to know."

Harry licks his lips, (which has Louis gripping on his dick harder) and starts biting on his tongue, before eventually saying, "I guess, because I have a..."

"You have a?" Louis presses mildly, voice soft and husky, looking at his brother intently.

"Uhm. I have a... I have a crush on you, Lou." Harry is fully blushing now as he states this, gaze completely hooded, as though he's admitting something he's been hiding for forever now. Louis thinks that could be it, because Harry proceeds with this: "I've always had the biggest crush on you, Lou."

♡

With his baby brother surrendering in admission like that, Louis all but chokes on his spit, because holy fuck. Louis can't feel his ears all the sudden for they've gone quite hot.

"You have a what on me now?" He lets out, fully ridiculed. "Harry... what? Are—are you being serious right now?" He can't believe this, he really can't.

"Yes, Lou. I do have," Harry croaks out, looking very much shy and embarrassed. "And that's why I'd always say 'my dad' anyway—I mean, whenever you'd say he's your dad too. It's because I fancy you; because we can't be related if I want us to be together. Or whatever."

"But—but, why? Why me? Harry, we're half brothers, for heaven's sakes," Louis stresses, cheeks getting hot and dick getting harder.

"Because you're awesome, alright!" Harry yells out, to which Louis has to cover the mouth of his younger brother for, because their dad might just hear them from the other room.

"Keep it down, Haz," Louis hisses as he towers over Harry, feeling the wetness of younger boy's lips against the skin of his palm, causing him to tentatively let go. Louis sits back down, covering his exposed cock again. Where did Harry put his briefs anyway?

"Sorry," Harry mutters sheepishly, once again pulling Louis' attention. "Anyway, it's true, Lou. I've always liked you. You're fairly attractive, just so you know. Not only that you're right fit and toned, but you're also kind of sexy, so..." Harry clears his throat as he pauses. And then he continues, " Louis, you're like... perfect. I even think you're dad's favorite, and like, I've always known I'm gay. For you, at least. Believe it or not, but it was when I first met you. I—I've tried looking someplace else, it's the truth, but I suppose it's never worked. I tried at school, but none of the lads fit with me, I don't know why."

"Har–"

"The moment I saw you in the car earlier," Harry quickly puts in, cutting Louis short, "I swear to God, I thought my heart was gonna explode—thank the Lord it didn't. It's weird, I know, cliché even, but—"

"Harry, no—stop," Louis says all the sudden, voice low, cutting Harry off this time. Harry gulps as he looks down on his lap, looking rather forlorn and guilty, face flushed pink. "Listen, Harry. You are dad's favorite, I just know it. In fact, you're the favorite of this entire family. You're... Bambi, you're the star, the one they love. You're the awesome one, not me."

"Louis—"

"Don't," Louis interrupts, raising a hand. "Please. I don't wanna hear it, Harry. I just—don't."

Harry shuts his mouth.

After a while, "I'm sorry, Lou."

Louis looks at Harry across from him. "For what?" He asks softly.

"I don't know." Harry sighs. He looks up to Louis and gives him a sad smile. "For living, I guess? For being born."

At that, Louis suddenly feels a twinge of pain moulding against his chest, an indescribably horrid guilt eating at him almost right away; he's never seen Harry sad like this—ever. The kid is always so damn happy, smiling, giggling. Not like this: forlorn, frowning and faking a smile.

Well, all Louis knows is he doesn't like any of whatever Harry is right now. It's killing him to see him this way.

Scooting forward, Louis all but wraps his arms around the petite young body of his 13-year old little brother and nuzzles his nose against his soft brown curls.

And the thing is, Harry smells absolutely divine, nice, and lovely, so Louis thinks now,  _why didn't he do this to Harry before, really?_

He could've been closed to his brother, see. He could've shown to Harry just how much he cares for him too—that even if he annoys him at times, Louis still loves him all the same. That Louis craved— _craves_ for his little brother's love as well. If only Louis wasn't too shallow way back when.

"Sshh, Harry," Louis murmurs against Harry's hair. "Don't you ever say that again. I love you, okay? Never apologize for living. That's just absurdly foul."

Harry sniffs, nestling his face against Louis' exposed chest. "Okay, Lou," he murmurs gently, "I'm sorry for saying that... I just felt like I had to. So, sorry."

"It's okay, H, it's okay. Just—" Louis redeems himself to cup Harry's face in his hands, "—just promise me you won't say that again, okay?"

"Promise, Lou."

"Good," Louis whispers, enveloping Harry again.

And their hug has lasted for a while—until Louis releases his younger brother and backs away to lie down on his back over the pillow.

Minutes pass, no one's made a sound.

"Louis?"

"Hmm?" Louis hums, gaze locked on the ceiling. "What is it, Bi?"

"Do you think you could...uhm..."

Louis sits up again, looks at Harry before him. "What is it, H?"

"Do you think you could... you could, like, fuck me?"

♡

Harry has had himself shutting his eyes tight after he's asked that, _could you fuck me_ , because he definitely knows to himself too that that's just tad fucked-up.

Even so, he waits for Louis to speak—to say something, anything—to yell at him or scold him.

But those did not come. Because these are what came out Louis' lips the moment he's opened them, "If I'd ever fuck you right now, right at this moment, would this be your first time?"

Harry's head snaps up in an instant, green eyes wide. "You—Lou, you would then?" he quips.

Louis shrugs. "Depends on your answer, Bi."

Watching his brother, Louis suspects Harry of genuinely thinking this through. Thing is, Louis knows when a person is a virgin or is not anymore, he's no idiot after all, and by the way Harry's reacting to everything so far—even back from the car—Louis just knows that yes, definitely, Harry's yet totally pure.

Louis just wants to see, perhaps, if Harry would ever lie to him, whether or not he'd do anything just for Louis to fuck him. Louis hopes it's the latter.

Just then, "Yes," Harry breathes out, voice barely audible but enough for Louis to make out, gaze pointedly looking at him. "This would be my first time, Lou..."

Well, fuck, Louis can't help scoff at that. "Good answer," he says, catching Harry's attention. "Okay then. Okay, I mean I'll let you have it—"

"Seriously, Lou?" Harry happily cuts in, guffawing at Louis excitedly.

Sighing, Louis confirms it with a groan, "Yes, Haz, God, what am I even doing?" He asks it more likely to himself than any, frustrated and agitated, his cock back on hardening once again against his lower belly.

Harry throws a fist in the air in victory. "Yay! So what should we do then? Where do we start? Should I lie on the bed? What?" He starts asking multiple questions. Louis can only keep himself from grinning at how cute and absurd and innocent his little brother is being right now.

"No, yeah, Harry, I guess so. I'm gonna need you to lie down on the bed, sure. Strip off your clothes too, nothing left, even your undies."

Harry nods and obeys, fast, not even feeling weird at all—not feeling weird about the fact that his older brother is just about fucking him. Awesome.

Standing up from bed, Louis goes toward the door and securely locks it, making sure none of the others will know about such sin he and sweet Bambi are about to make any moment now, and then goes toward the spot of the room where his bag has been lying on the ground; Louis crouches down to rummage inside it, take out his lotion to serve as a lube for tonight.

Mindlessly so, Louis smirks to himself as he still feels load ridiculed by all this, because what do you fucking know; Louis' only about to fuck his little brother in his virgin arsehole plausibly seconds from now, to which he's decided upon giving to him good and hard, in which he knows rather makes him pretty much a fucked-up twat.

Louis just doesn't give two shits right now. It's what Harry's been desperately asking for anyway, right? Louis' just being a wonderful brother, a beautiful sinner, and a generous lad. He mentally laughs sarcastically to himself. The Fool.

Whatever, though, because there's really just no denying, Louis' so fucking horny now his head might just explode. He needs to get off. He needs to jack off so bad, and he wants Harry's hole specifically, to be the only thing taking all of his cock tonight. Nothing else. Nothing more—just Harry's hot, tight, virgin hole.

This is happening. This really is damn happening.

Fucking incest, the worrisome Louis Tomlinson thinks.

Heading back towards the bed, Louis can't help admire his little brother all naked and sprawled all over the bed.

His cock is still a bit tiny at this young age, Louis takes a notice of, but he also takes a notice of how hard and red and angry it looks from in between his lovely, milky thighs, is seemingly already begging to be touched, the hole under his balls tight, pink, and fuck,  _tight_ ; and just by the idea of all this has Louis leaning right on the edge, he's not gonna lie. This has his cock hardening some more, he's not gonna damn lie.

Surely, Harry is ready now to be fucked by Louis, that Louis' certain of. And so it will happen.

Crawling up the bed and towards Harry, Louis slowly settles on top of him (his muscled arms at each side of Harry's small frame, cock bobbing and nudging Harry's own), and within just one swift movement surges down and starts peppering Harry with some of his lingering soft yet wet kisses; along Harry's jawline, on his chin, at the crook of his neck, down his chest, and until he's lower in between Harry's inner thighs—the redder, most sensitive skin against each of them.

Louis can smell Harry all over him as it is, and that only makes his dick go harder by the second... if that's quite possible. Louis truly fucking needs to get inside his brother now—and he means it. And he knows he will be dragging this sex longer, because Jesus Christ, Harry's probably the hottest sex partner he's ever had. The prettiest too.

Louis will make this one memorable.

As Louis continues on making Harry feel good, Harry's breath hitches against his throat quite audibly so, obviously feeling aroused if by moaning Louis' name is any indication.

Louis can feel Harry's very own heartbeat racing fast in his chest with how nearly flushed they are like this, his younger brother's lips parting, soft murmurs of please please Louis oh coming out of his mouth.

And to think that they've barely even started and yet Harry's already making some noise. Well, Louis halts at that.

Standing up to his feet and leaving Harry hanging for a sec, Louis searches for some clean socks in his bag and tosses them to Harry by the bed. "What's this for?" Harry asks, confused.

Coming back, Louis commands, "Bite on them. To keep your moaning muffled."

Eyebrow raising in immediate understanding, Harry quickly obeys and bites the half part of Louis' skull-printed socks, keeping it from falling off as he goes back down again to slack. Louis climbs back on top of him after that.

And this shall begin from here, Louis tells himself rather bravely.

♡

So at first, Louis takes Harry in his mouth; blowing him, sucking him off, fast and wet and slick. Louis' practically suckling on his cock, and all Harry can do is moan while he simultaneously bites on the sock and grip at the sheets of the bed beside him. Louis has Harry coming after that—yes, just like that.

"Alright," Louis says, voice low and steady, gaze now dark and lusty. "Turn for me, Bambi. I'm gonna have to see your bum hole from here." Harry, feeling a bit dizzy from his first come obeys, shifting on the bed and lying on his front. His dick gets squished against the sheets. He doesn't mind.

Taking the lotion beside him, Louis starts squeezing on the bottle and takes just a right amount of lubricant, spreading it all over his rock hard length, making sure that all of his shaft, even his balls, are slick and smooth.

Otherwise, Harry would be suffering in pain. Louis doesn't want his baby brother feeling anything other than pleasure itself.

Harry starts wiggling and moving his body from where he lies, to which Louis steadies him for, putting a hand firmly on his back. "Don't move, Bi..."

"But you're taking too long, I'm getting impatient—"

"Sshh," Louis hushes him. "Just bite on the socks, alright? You'll have me pretty soon."

Harry exasperatedly sighs, scratching on his tummy, but does what he's told anyway. He trusts Louis on all of this way too much after all.

With his cock all lubed now, Louis scoots forward on his knees, reaching down and grasping each of Harry's bum cheek, squeezing at them. Harry shudders at the contact, buckling and rolling his hips, arching slowly, bum in the air, spreading wide his legs for Louis to have more access of his hole. Louis thinks Harry's oh so ready now.

At first, Louis inserts a lubed finger in Harry's tight hole. And God, Louis thinks, he's so damn tight—he is most definitely tight. Well shit does Louis like that.

Harry lets out a puff of muffled breath, starting to move on his own around Louis' middle finger inserted in his bum hole, being the one to cooperate right away, being the one who's working himself around Louis' slick finger. Louis can only shake his head mentally at the eagerness of his pretty little brother. He's just so sure of this, Harry—of all this. Heck, he's even more sure than Louis himself.

Inserting a second finger, Harry shudders yet again, but he doesn't stop rocking around Louis' fingers. In fact, Harry has just got much eager. Louis lets him, is also shoving in and out his lubed fingers in his brother's hole, forcing them much deeper and deeper within. And then—Louis adds in some magic onto it; he curves his fingers while they're inside of Harry's hole and starts fucking him with it faster and harder. Harry grips on the sheets much tighter as a retaliation, like his life is depending on it.

"You like that, Bambi?" Louis asks in a hushed tone, chest hovering on top of Harry's milky back as he leans over to where Harry's ear is at, still fucking him quick and fast at the bum hole.

Harry hardly nods, is too dazed just by Louis fingering him this fast, this hard. Louis smirks. He can't believe he's already enjoying this—enjoying fucking his own brother like this.

He knows that everything about this is pathetically fucked up and crazy and wrong, but he admittedly loves it. Every bit of it. Harry is doing so well so far, taking two of his fat fingers easily. Louis loves that Harry can handle him.

Louis doesn't waste any more time. Retrieving his fingers from Harry's hole, he licks at them and tastes Harry on his tongue; then upon knowing Harry's ready now, Louis slaps his bum cheek so as to command him to move. "Close your legs for me, Haz," he instructs. And Harry is confused about that—that strange command, but he obeys nonetheless, scrambling on his knees and closing his thighs, which includes of closing his mild-spread hole as well.

Making the bed dip, at last, Louis lines up the head of his cock around Harry's rim, steadies Harry underneath him, and—he slides in his cock. Fast and slick and hard, all just in one swift push.

Harry's eyes widen in the suddenness of the gesture, tears already presenting at the brims of his eyes. Louis puffs breath, fanning Harry's cheek with it, as he begins moving gently.

"Okay, baby?" Louis asks just to check on Harry.

Not being able to answer for there's socks on his mouth, Harry can only nod.

"Good." With that, Louis starts fucking Harry hard—with Harry's legs and thighs closed next to each other, that is, causing his hole to come off tighter than ever. Louis simply wants Harry to feel the wholeness of his thick and long dick inside of him, is the thing. He wants Harry to take all of it—all of him—including the painful parts, as well as the pleasurable ones that are surely just about surfacing within a little more pushes and thrusts.

Harry's arching his back at the impact and the painful delights that Louis' giving him, to which Louis only pushes him back down against the mattress again, just when he tries to escape from the rhythm, and carries on fucking him tight and deep and hard, hard, hard. Harry bites harder on the socks shoved on his mouth then, keeping himself from screaming right there and then.

As Louis thrusts in much deeper into Harry, he himself letting out hushed moans and strings of strangled ah ah ah's, Louis eventually scrambles up to his knees and grips on each of Harry's arm, just so he can go even faster in thrusting in and out, as well as for Harry not to have his head hitting against the headboard if Louis ever pushes in harder and swifter.

While this kind of routine and synchronization between their bodies go on for a few more minutes—with Harry's legs and thighs imparted while Louis fucks into his tighter than before hole, and Harry just taking in all of his big and hard cock all at once—Louis, for a bit more later on, finally unleashes his cock out of Harry's hole with a pop.

He's already came inside of Harry, it's turned out—without him noticing in an instant. Harry sighs in relief. Harry thinks they're done now, Louis supposes, the kid's already getting knackered. They aren't yet, though, however.

"Turn around, Bambi," Louis says after a while.

"What?" Harry quizzes as he spits the socks out, voice groggy and squeaky. "Aren't we done yet?"

Louis laughs humorlessly, shaking his head, long curls dangling as he bends over. "Not yet, Bi. Not yet."

"Oh."

## ♡

Harry tosses and turns, situating himself up. Like this, he and Louis are face to face, with Louis on top and him underneath. "Now, spread your legs open for me,"  _Harry does,_  "and put them on my shoulders each, so you're thoroughly exposed and stretched."

"Uh, o-okay," Harry manages, blushing pink and probably feeling insecure at the exposure he's having, resting each of his leg on each of Louis' shoulder. Harry's cock is angry hard and leaking against his lower belly, tight hole getting stretched by the way he has his thighs and legs spread apart and bent up. Louis finds it fucking hot.

"Good baby," Louis whispers, gaze blown dilated and dark. He leans down and hovers his opened mouth against Harry's owns, not kissing the kid yet though, like he's asking for sweet Bambi's permission first.

As if he can read his older brother's mind, Harry arches his back and surges himself forward instead, doing the honor of letting their lips crash against each other, sticking his tongue out firsthand so he can right away taste Louis against his. Louis smiles through the torrid kiss and cooperates with it, kissing his little brother open-mouthed, both their tongues sliding and colliding against each other's, _wetwetwet_ and honey sweet.

They make out for a while, with Harry's legs over Louis' shoulders, his bum hole leaking of Louis' first come, Louis' elbows resting on each side of Harry's pretty face, their bare groins rubbing against one another, and their nakedness all glorious and sweaty in just one massive bed.

It's filthy. They're both filthy. Hot and sweating and panting; the sinners they are.

Ending the kiss, Louis looks at his brother all pliant and hot and small underneath him, locking his dark and lustful piercing gaze at him, and leaning back down only to kiss him again. Harry gladly accepts it, retaliating by licking stripes inside Louis' mouth, teeth clinking against each other, tongues touching and tugging. They're so drawn to it they keep on groaning lowly in one another's mouths—then again Louis knows they can't make any noises, so he ends it for the last time and scrambles on his knees. He grasps his cock in between him and lines its head up against Harry's still leaking of semen hole. Then Louis pushes in.

"Ah," Harry moans loudly. With that, Louis has to kiss him again just to keep his moaning muffled. The socks are out of their sights, he realizes. Shit.

Regardless, Louis fucks Harry tastefully like this. With eager and desperate thrusts and pushes within his little brother this time, Louis does—while him and Harry are making out, spit-slick lips against each other, as Louis fucks him hard, fast and deep.

Harry's toes curl as Louis' cock's head hits his prostate with the way he's being fucked deeper than before. His mind is in frenzy now, that Louis notices, if by the way his eyes are rolling back is anything to go. Louis' just gone faster and more dominant now as it is, that and less domestic.

As Louis looks around the bed, parting from the kiss abruptly, he sees the socks lying on top of Harry's pillow and immediately, he takes it. He shoves it into Harry's agape mouth again, and Harry bites around it from then, keeping his squealing muffled.

From there, Louis finally thrusts in faster and quicker in and out of Harry; sliding his cock out of Harry's hole until the tip of his cock's head is all visible to his own sights, just to shove it back inside Harry's hole again, smoothly fast and hard, much deeper within, until Louis can't see his cock against him anymore, albeit the entirety of it all is inserted inside Harry's pink hole.

"Mmmfph!" Harry manages, eyes shut tight, some of his hot tears slowly streaming down his reddened cheeks.

Louis carries on. He fucks in and out of Harry some more. Just going harder and harder. He hasn't been laid for months now after all, and Harry's not just perfect, but also a wonderful shag—along with the kissing part at that. Louis loves that. He loves everything about what's happening right now.

As their sex routine like this goes on for dragged minutes, Louis calls it and releases himself from Harry. He doesn't want to ride out his second orgasm like this yet, he decides. Harry should work on that for them both, he thinks. So flipping them over using his own strength just for the lot of them, Louis forces a dazed and fucked out Harry to sit on his lap—bum cheek spread to settle on his stone hard erection.

Finally on position, Louis whispers through the dark, "Start moving then."

"What... How..." Harry puzzles, all heavy-lidded and bummed hazed.

So Louis mid-elaborates, "Ride me, Bambi."

♡

Breathing heavily in and out, Harry manages to nod his dizzying head, albeit it's not everyday he's being told that,  _ride me._

Despite his sights are blurring, deflowered bum hole quite already sore and inexplicably stretched—worn out—and even his lanky 13-year old body all out exposed and exhausted, Harry still obeys, yet willing and still horny to his guts; from there, he starts riding his big brother's thick cock.

Harry rocks up and down over Louis' lap, hole outstretching even more, with him taking in all of Louis' length deeply inside him, hitting his prostate—his sweetest most sensitive spot. As Harry swats with his spread apart knees, Louis' red hardened cock appears from time to time from just being swallowed from time to time as well around the rims of Harry's arse, making all this more and more good—better, hotter.

"Oh, God, yes," Louis growls lowly, his usually raspy voice sounding raspier and husky. Harry's neglected dick only gets turned on at the obscene sound of that. "You're so good, Bi—oh—you're so—oh, good."

As if Louis' cheering him on, Harry just goes faster with riding Louis' cock. Louis only moans sweetly some more, keeping himself from making loud noises for he doesn't want neither Troy nor Anne knocking on the door and asking what's going on. Louis simply refuses to stop.

"My—my— _Lou_ , my cock," Harry squeaks out, eyes rolling at the back of his head mostly because of so much mixed feelings of lust and want and need, what with this is his first time yet he's already riding someone's dick. "I need to... I need to touch." Harry doesn't wait for his brother anymore to do something about it, instead he does it himself. Harry starts to pump on his own cock, greedy and earnest, pre-come serving as his lube. Louis just lets him, not swatting his hand away unlike what he does with others.

With a few more riding up and down, up and down, and up and down, Harry's rims wrapped around Louis' shaft, sliding in and out of him, Louis eventually holds onto Harry's waists and hoists him up to have his cock freed from inside Harry—because, "Ah,  _fuck_ ," Louis lets out as he comes for the second time. White sticky semen shoots at Harry's bare chest, some of it scattered on his face, some on his stomach.

They don't care if it's sticky and such.

Harry, pretty much exhausted, sweating and limp and well-fucked now, collapses on the bed next to his older brother. At last.

Louis sighs contentedly, shifts sideways and faces Harry entirely. Harry, who has his face all buried against the pillows, lying on his front, curls all sticky and damped with sweat; his lower back rises and falls against him as he breathes. Goodly fucked, he is, Louis assesses.

Harry closes his eyes and heaves out a muffled yawn after a moment. And Louis can only smile at the adorable sight of sweet baby angel Bambi all deadbeat like that.

"Can't keep up, I see?" Louis teases Harry, neck craned sideways, lips formed into a lopsided smile.

"Mmmpshpf," Harry responds, words trapped against the pillows against his entire face. "Mmfphshmmpsh."

Louis rolls his eyes fondly, rather playfully, and reaches up to turn his little brother's face quite a bit to his direction by his chin, so that the two of them are facing each other with their bodies side by side next to one another.

"Pardon, baby?" Louis asks softly—fondly—blue eyes bright and loving now, unlike when they were fucking earlier and they were all dark, full-blown and dilated.

"I said, who says I can't keep up?" Harry counters groggily, one eyebrow raised, eyes now obviously tired. "If I'm only 13 now and I can manage to take all your big cock in me, then what more if I'm already 23 like yourself, getting fucked by somebody, huh, Lou-Bear?"

Louis chuckles, sides of his eyes crinkling for the first time since he's got here with Harry. Louis doesn't know whatever the fuck this sudden pang in his guts that's occurred could mean—just after hearing what Harry's said—but it's kinda sorta hurting him deep inside.

Just thinking or much worse imagining Harry being fucked by some bloke else, who isn't Louis, is making Louis' stomach churn, twist and turn. The thought is just—horrible, is all too much. He can't. Harry shouldn't have sex with anyone other than him, Louis thinks forlornly. He just can't, Bambi shouldn't, no.

Closing his eyes for a moment, Louis forces himself to not oversee through it—through the image of Harry fucking someone else or getting fucked by someone else once he's turned 23, because fucking hell no. Just, no. Louis doesn't think he can handle that...

Louis inhales sharply and lets go of the awful thought.

Scooting much closer to Harry's side and breathing him in, instead of being sad, Louis just takes his little brother's hand in his, interlocks their fingers together and leans forward in to kiss him straight on the lips. Harry kisses him right back, smiling against their touching lips.

Louis says goodnight to Bambi a little after a while.

♡

Comes earliest of the morning, Louis immediately wakes and shoots up from bed, not having any other thoughts. Harry is still there lying next to him, sprawled with his front, all exposed and naked, his—for some undefined and sacred reasoning—flushed and milky as fuck bum all bare and irresistible before Louis' eyes.

Louis almost wants to touch them, fuck his little brother again while he's still sleeping and snoring on his bed, but...

Unfortunately reality quickly kicks in—breaking Louis from his lustful desires. So.

Landing with his feet on the ground, Louis pads across the room and looks outside the window; he checks to see if the sun is completely up in the skies now. It still isn't. He's still got loads of time then.

Padding towards the door, Louis leans against it and tries to make out of the movements from behind of it all. Nothing. No one must be up yet. That's a good thing.

Dressing up quite quickly, Louis nudges Harry with his foot and forces the kid to consciousness. Harry complies right away. He isn't a heavy sleeper, it seems to be.

"Huh?" Harry groggily says, eyelids half down, lips chapped and parted.

"Wake up, Bi," Louis says softly, "you need to go back to your room. Dad and Anne might—"

"Oh, hi," Harry sweetly mumbles out, Louis getting cut off short, lips turning into a soft lovely cupcake signature Harry smile that Louis' come to memorize, green eyes gleaming despite the dimness of the room. Harry is so beautiful it's uncanny, Louis thinks. Whoever will take his heart away is a lucky person. "Good morning, Lou."

Louis almost immediately caves in at that, heart melting against his chest. "Hi," he says fondly, "good morning, baby."

Harry grins adorably, having heard that pet name again,  _baby_. "What did you wake me up for?"

Louis smiles at him warmly. "Because you need to go back to your room, little one. Dad will be up anytime soon. And so will your mum."

Harry nods. "You're right..." He obeys and gets up, knees wobbly and a bit jelly, takes all of his scattered clothes from the floor and quickly suits up. Louis holds him upright when he's just about kneeling down, bum very sore because of last night and legs barely alright—all because of last night as well.

Louis swallows a lump of guilt and carries his brother in his arms instead, Bridal Style for that matter, letting the little one make grabby hands around his neck. Harry once again sleeps against his chest with that, puffing off a dearly sigh, happy to be in his arms.

As Louis opens the door and walks out of the guest room with sweet Bambi, he pads along the hallway and looks for his room.

Right at the end of the hall, Louis spots a white door where a bunch of colorful wooden alphabets spelled in Harry's nickname are plastered against.  _H e r s h e l._ He right away knows it's the one. Louis opens it, pushes through and lays Harry down on his bed, tucks his little brother in with the stray blanket and leaves a soft chaste kiss, not on Harry's forehead, but to his lips. Harry hums in appreciation as retaliation, snuggles right in, and returns back to sleep.

Smiling as he gazes at his beautiful brother sleeping like this, Louis gets a hard time just leaving him all peaceful and dozing so soon, thus sitting on a chair inside Harry's room, Louis proceeds to not-so-platonically watch his little brother sleep soundly, admiring him ever so lovingly.

"I love you, Haz," Louis whispers from where he is, not really intending for Harry to hear it. "I love you so much. Sorry if it's only now I'm admitting it. I actually need you in my life. You and Dad. Even Anne..."

"I love you more, Lou," says Harry after some time, eyes still closed, though, lips twisted into a genuine smile—a happy and contented one. "And thank you..."

And yeah, Louis supposes, Harry's still heard him after all.

Louis all but smiles around a blush, crinkles by his eyes appearing, feeling his heart go big, big, big, blue eyes so, so bright.

Shaking his head, Louis humors himself,  _whatever this special kind of affection I'm feeling for my own brother, really._

Then again, Louis supposes he truly is a fucked-up. He doesn't give a damn.


	2. watch me fall apart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and so the fluffy and drama begin :D

_ sequel _

Swimming in the sheets of his four-poster bed, the spoiled baby he is, Harry struggles to open his eyes as soon as he hears the blaring of his phone, indicating some early schedule that needs fulfillment.

He groans, shutting his phone off.  _It's too early_ , he bitterly thinks, irritated and annoyed that life has to happen for him. Harry slumps his head back on the mattress again at that, back arched ridiculously, the way he sleeps being all but silly, bum and thighs hoisted up in the air like a loon.

Harry huffs breath and tries falling back to sleep, shutting his eyes, but only to open them again just when he remembers that it's actually his first day in summer school, A Step In Going to High School In Fall, something he's excited about for weeks now; Harry immediately rolls out of bed because of that, and falls flat on his bum on the floor.

"Ow," he squeaks out, gripping his lower back where it hurts. Harry keeps on massaging it for the pain to leave him, but the healing doesn't come until later. What a pigeon-toed, he thinks of himself.

As much as Harry would love to wail his complains about that having hurt him, pull at his curls or whatever, he's gone interrupted briefly, much to his dismay. Someone has opened the door to his room. Harry looks to its direction, eyebrows knotted in curiosity.

A head of one definitely unexpected Louis with his familiar punk-ish alpha stance together with the lot of tattoos scattered along his arms and biceps as though they're greeting Harry a sweet hello, peeks through the small ajar of the door and tells Harry with much finesse and sleekness, "Dad said to go get you. Come down for breakfast, you're going to be late." Louis excuses himself after that, leaving Harry utterly smitten and hot on the cheeks—instantly half hard.

Ha. Instantly half hard, The Notorious Child.

 _Louis_ , thinks Harry,  _of course_. Another valid reason to wake up early and be happy.

Harry stands up then, a big smile on his face, dimples popping in excitement. He rushes out his room and then down the stairs, two steps at a time, very much giddy and hyperactive. And yes, in case you're wondering, Harry's finally recovered from his bumhole's soreness back from three days ago when Louis had fucked him senseless in the guest room. And thus now here he is again, being the usual Harry The Cheeky Flowerchild Austin, who is always energetic and silly, and damn yeah, Hippie friendly.

Hippie friendly, because the moment he's stepped inside the kitchen, with the entirety of his family being there (i.e. Anne, Troy, and Louis), he starts greeting them all with the brightest of Hellos and Good Mornings he most definitely can muster and begins telling them about what he's dreamed of last night. Harry may or may not have caught Louis shaking his head at him fondly, a small smile formed on his lips.

Well, what do you know; Harry's already contented and satisfied with that, so... he thanks you very much.

At eleven before noon, Harry's school bus arrives.

By hearing that—a bunch of young teenager summer class students laughing and talking loudly outside, some of them calling Harry's name and bidding the kid goodbye—makes Louis bolt right up from where lies, rather uncomfortably, just so he can run over to where Harry is and hug him as a welcome home somehow, because he  _missed_  him during those 5 hours he was at school, apparently, only to realize afterwards that he isn't that close to his baby brother publicly, and that Harry might find him strange if he ever did that.

So Louis refrains himself from doing that then, and just sets the idea aside. Instead, Louis walks out his room, goes down the stairs, and sits on the couch by the living room, switching the telly on to make a show of being occupied.

Making a show of being rather occupied. Right.

Well, it comes in handy, really, because the moment Harry's actually strode in, making the room instantly alive, active and bright, the boy being the star and the life of this home, Louis' stomach instantly  _swoops_ , as if something lurched from the depths of it. He may not know it yet, but something undeniably connected to pure affection for the kid is what he's suspecting either way.

Louis is only a thousand times thankful that some movie is ongoing on the telly, really, because this fortunately has him all looking quite distracted, even when admittedly he's all Harry's for the taking.

 _Tsk_ , Louis mentally shakes his head, he really needs to get his shit together, because  _fucking hell, this is his thirteen fucking year old little brother that's involved here!_

Brothers should only be brothers to each other (minus the sexual intercourse, because given what they did three days prior, that's already been said and done) and not be infatuated with one another, like Jesus fucking Christ.

Anyway, small Harry approaches the living room then, drops his bag on the floor (carefully, the sweetheart he is), and flashes Louis his pretty, pretty smile, all cutie rabbit teeth and deep dimples, red plump lips and pink cheeks. And the thing is, Louis doesn't want to look—no, he refuses, actually. He totally, totally refuses.

But he does look in the end anyway, just because he simply can't resist the Flowerchild.

Right, so. Bambi seems giddy, Louis notes as he looks at him. He's all giggly and stuff, too—milky white-skinned little Harry, burning bright green eyes, fond smile, Bambi-eyed, and curvy eyelashes—and he's definitely looking like a goddamn twink.

A damn twink for fuck's sakes.

Twinks; in which Louis is quite familiar with at the features and traits, since he spends so much time in sites like YouPorn™, PornHub™, and even YouJizz™, just to type at the search bar t-w-i-n-k-s, because it's his thing and he likes to wank on two (or maybe four or five for gang bangs) twinks fucking.

And Louis really, really needs to get the hell out of here now before he can even try and perform another sin. He can't just return that same fondness Harry's given, otherwise he'll comply and might want to shag him again.

Damn.

But then, "Hi," Harry says as he smiles shyly, voice soft and sounding pathetically fond, stance languid and flirtatious. And fuck, Louis thinks,  _fuckfuckfuck_. Things his little brother do to him!

Quickly standing up from the couch, Louis flicks the telly off and looks at his brother as he towers over him, says, rather coldly, "Hey," and then forces himself to walk out of the living room, just so he can get rid of his rather expected bulge—and also in order for Harry to realize just how he and Louis aren't yet there on that level to talk so casually, despite they've already fucked.

Louis simply isn't ready yet to completely let his guards down for this family, see. He's still an utter pussy, so sue him. Sue him, he begs of you.

Meanwhile, though,

"Uh... Lou?" Harry sadly mutters out—minutely so when Louis' no longer in sight—lips suddenly turning upside down, bright green eyes losing their shine.

Harry can only heave out a long and disappointed sigh, lower his gaze on the ground, and shrug just to mentally tell himself that, optimistically, Louis must be only tired.

Which the kid hopes is true, instead of Louis avoiding him, because that would hurt. A lot.

So, yeah, Harry convinces himself sadly, his big brother must be only tired.

♡

In the late afternoon, at probably around three or four, Anne and Harry are both by the kitchen and are laughing about something Harry's storytelling, the kid buzzing with joy while munching on some wafers, and Anne just being happy with it.

It's the time that Louis comes out of his room at last, going to where they are, although not to join them but rather just to inform them that he's going out to "visit some record shop", when really, it's just to purposefully avoid Harry some more, even more.

Anne lets him—is completely oblivious to his motives—trusting him, knowing he's old enough now and knows better, ignoring her young son's oppositions from across her.

Louis gives Harry a pointed look as he tells Anne no, don't let him, he'll just probably go to some pub and flirt with women thrice his age, making a clear point that the little kid has got nothing left to do about it, and turns around to leave.

Harry immediately slides down from the stool he's been sat for an hour now, defiance in his guts, and rushes over to where Louis is—which is at the front door, all ready to leave. "I'm coming with you, Lou!" Harry announces, his voice loud and quite insistent, lips pursed into a thin line. "Just to make sure you really are going to a record shop and not some pub!"

Louis shakes his head defiantly and faces the direction where Anne is watching them from the kitchen entryway. "Bambi can't come with me," Louis tells her rather than Harry himself, voice scarily calm, albeit coldly fatal. "I don't want to babysit while I look for a CD to buy. He'll only serve as a pain in the arse—no offense to you Anne, but that's how I see it."

Anne goes towards them and holds Harry around the shoulders, hands stopping against his heaving-in-anger chest. "Oh, no, don't worry, Louis," she says with a sheepish smile, "I won't let him come, if that's what you'd like. Uhm, you may go—Bi stays here."

"What?" Harry starts protesting, emerald eyes wide, teeth gritting in fume as if to say no fair. "Mum! Why can't I?"

"Because you'd only disturb Louis from sifting through CD cases, baby. So, you can't."

"But, mum! I'll promise to behave!"

"Harry, no buts," Anne says firmly, "If you can't, you can't. You're staying here. We can watch your favorite cartoon show if you want, or we can eat ice cream, pancakes, whatever you wish, but that is only because you're staying here. Understood?"

"No!" Harry's shouting now, wiggling out of Anne's hold to get to Louis' side. "I wanna go with Louis! I wanna come with him! I promise I'll behave! Please, just let me! This is important to me—"

"Hazza," Louis says firmly, cutting Harry off his whining, heaving out a sigh. Harry looks at him with that, eyes already brimming with rushing tears, facial expression sour and hurt. Louis gulps. He can't do this—he just can't—can't handle seeing Harry so fragile and vulnerable like this. Shit. "I'm so sorry, Bi," he says softly, refraining himself from giving in to Harry's sad frowns and pouts. "Maybe... maybe I'll just bring you home something, okay? I—y-you stay here. I swear, I'll be right home soon."

Harry softens a little bit at that, shoulders sagging, eyes casting downwards. Harry starts to quietly sob, nose flaring as he sniffs, nodding his head yes. "Okay," he says sadly.

Anne frowns at this, but she knows she can't intervene with neither Louis' life nor decisions, since she only is his step mother, his mother's second wife... So even if her favorite son is clearly getting hurt by this, she only ever tightens her hold around sweet Bambi and keeps him upright. It's all she can offer. Whatever is happening to her son ever since Louis' come here, really.

Without another word from Harry, Louis turns around and leaves the house, heart only aching a bit  _lot_.

Harry climbs up the stairs after that and continues to cry in his room, burying his face inside one of the pillowcases he has.

He thinks life is unfair and cruel.

♡

Harry sulks while Louis' away.

He keeps on walking and walking around the house, pacing inside the kitchen, going around the island, pacing in the living room, outside around the backyard, only to come back inside again to repeat what he's just done, since Anne is in the shower—which means she's unavailable to speak with—and Troy is still at work, will most definitely come home late, like the normal routine he's had.

Harry upon sulking some more, will glance at the clock by their living room's wall from time to time, wishing Louis would come home soon, so they can finally bond again, the two of them near the presences of one another.

And then after that, he'll flop down on the couch, just because he really is getting bored now (being an only son with only one sister  _who's away_ is boring, basically. He really, like desperately needs Louis), and until he climbs up the stairs again to sneak into his older brother's room, see what's inside.

Being the sneaky or rather cheeky boy Harry is, he starts with jumping up and down Louis' big white bed—the bed where he's been fucked not so long ago, he notes—and rolls himself around it, many times, back and forth, so on and vise versa.

When cupcake Harry had enough, he lands his feet on the ground, runs towards Louis' closet and begins rummaging through it, admiring all the clothes Louis has, smiling big having seen each and one of them, even attempting to sniff them, just because Harry neither gives a fuck nor is aware of being a total creep.

Done with his older brother's closet, Harry slams it carelessly shut, and then goes toward Louis' desk next.

Harry sits happily on the chair as he gets there, tucks himself underneath, and looks at all the books, pens and sheets of papers laid-sprawled all over the desk.

Instantly, however, Harry finds it boring, so he sighs and readies himself to stand.

Rather absently and dismissively, Harry is just about to turn away from the desk when he sees something that's right away caught his full attention.

A song book. A left unlocked song book.

Louis' song book.

Shaking and rather hesitating, Harry gulps around a lump and sits back down on the chair again. He stares at the open binder and blinks dazedly at it.

Should he read it? Should he take advantage of Louis not being home, not having stashed his hypothetical diary away, and read through it, since it's free and served? What lyrics do Louis jot down anyway? Does Harry want to know them? What does Louis write about?

Maybe... maybe little Bambi can just, like, skim through it, but not entirely invade his personal stuff.

"Yeah," Harry breathes out. Just read a little, he thinks to himself, just a bit.

Leaning over, Harry narrows his eyes and quickly reads through a left open page of Louis' song book. It's the one he's slept over just this morning when he's attempted to write—and it also is the one where he's written some things, one of which Harry's own name being the last thing left scribbled down.

Harry's heart may or may not have skipped a beat during his invasion of his older brother's book.

Louis, apparently, is growing some "undefined, uncalled for, indisputable and undeniable"—it says on the book—feelings for him. He, Harry, and that Louis thinks it's wrong and abominable and fucked up.

 _Holy cow_ , Harry thinks,  _holy mother of cow._

"Harry?" Harry freezes on his spot. He knows that voice. "What are you—what are you doing here?" The voice grows louder, anger etching. "Are you—oh God—are you reading my song book?"

Harry turns around and sees Louis' already stepped inside the room, and yep, he's mad. Like, totally mad. Harry hates the sight. "I'm sorry, Lou, let me explain—"

"Who fucking told you to come here, Harry?" Louis growls, eyebrows furrowed together, eyes glazing with nonexistent fires. "You can't just—you can't just come here! Jesus Christ!"

Harry winces at this, eyes squinting shut, teeth gritting and heart pounding madly against his chest. He's scared with Louis—with the way he's scowling at him—with the way he's being an actual big brother and scolding him.

"I said, I'm sorry," Harry lets out, voice impossibly small, mouth formed into a firm frown.

"You always say that!" Louis continues to be mad. "It is wrong to invade someone else's privacy, Harry, do you understand? You don't just touch other people's stuff, lest break into their rooms!"

Harry shuts his eyes as he hears this, heartbeat picking up its pace, ears heating up in such disgrace. Now Louis hates him—Harry can just vanish now.

"Lou... I said I was sorry. I'm sorry... I won't—I won't do it again, I swear," Harry starts to croak, words cutting by syllables, voice quivering at the tone. Harry is tearing up. "Please, Lou, I'm—I'm so sorry. I promise you, I won't bother you ever again, just—just please don't hate me."

Jaw clenching, fists tightening, and head throbbing, Louis only mutters out what he doesn't mean to mutter out, "Get out," only because he's already hurt his brother enough out of spilling distaste. Louis wants to punch himself for it, that he fully desires.

When Harry leaves his room—with his one last glance to him with this rather contagious saddening frown and bloodshot eyes with the pained facial expression going that by, that is—Louis starts to break himself, too, from deeper within. He doesn't cry like Harry himself though, he only tries to regain his composure back, eases down, and curses on his stupid self for ever leaving his song book, that is recently full of _HarryHarryHarry_ , lying about in the open, where one Bambi could actually sift through.

Louis knows he's such a fucking moron for making Harry cry for the second time today, all because of his own pride, self-loathing, and egotistical persona. Also, he's a fucked up. He's a moron and he's a fucked up. Great.

Louis lies down after a while, throwing an arm over his eyes, tries to erase the saddening memory of Harry's puppy face just now before it completely guilt trips him, and focuses himself on finding such ways on how to apologize to his little brother later on instead.

♡

Meanwhile at dinner, at about half past eight, Louis and Harry sit across from each other—Louis indicating he isn't mad anymore and is now rather sorry for all he's said earlier to Harry, whereas Harry's making a clear point of having zero faith in Louis anymore, since he's crushed his fragile juvenile heart from earlier, and that he doesn't deserve any of his forgiveness at all.

Harry's young at heart, see, so it takes time for him to heal—mentally and emotionally—and Louis should've known better.

On a rather different note, meanwhile, Anne is there with them, seeing all the commotion and the like, though only thinking her sons might have fought, making her worry and ask, "Hazza, baby, is something wrong? Did you and Louis fight? You look like you just bawled—"

"Yeah, mum, I'm fine. I'm... just fine," Harry answers before she can even continue on, voice small and utterly restrained, gaze locked on his half-touched food. Louis feels guiltier, something akin to warmth pooling at his guts.

Reaching over, Anne tries to hold Harry's arm for conceding, but the boy immediately flinches at the nearing contact, so as retaliation, he gets up from the chair and leaves the kitchen, saying, "I'm not hungry, mum, sorry. I'm going to bed," his restrained voice still the same.

Louis thinks he needs to go after him.

And Louis does go after him. But that's only after he's helped Anne clean up in the kitchen, taken out the trash, and volunteered upon drying the pans, glasses and plates.

Knocking on Harry's door to step inside his room, for Louis, is a very hard task, because Harry's refusing to let him in, yelling  _go away_ and  _leave me alone_ and  _I hate you_ , and is getting even more sensitive by the second, sobbing for his dear life. Harry is being difficult, making Louis sigh.

Louis' just glad Anne is not intervening at the lot of them, knowing this "brotherly misunderstandings" is just theirs and is their own business alone—own problem to solve—the very reason she's never finding out that there is now, actually, something that's occurring between him and Harry anyway. Something that one could describe as an act of practical incest—a vile, disgusting, inappropriate thing.

Well, Louis' quite relieved Anne doesn't know shit, really.

After a few more coos and knocks on Harry's door, the little one eventually complies, turning the doorknob and letting Louis in.

Louis doesn't waste any more time and immediately opts for engulfing his baby brother in a massive hug for forgiveness.

Unluckily for him though, Harry is faster than he is. "Why do you hate me so much, Louis? Why?" And there goes Harry again with his utter courageous self and shameless straightforwardness, catching Louis off-guard.

Louis frowns, swallows around a lump. "Bi, I don't. You know I don't. I was just—I just got mad at you for—"

"For finally knowing that you  _have_  feelings for me too after all?" Harry has his left eyebrow raised at this, unimpressed. Louis is ashamed of himself.

"Haz, you don't understand," Louis tries, "we can't, like, you know..." He gestures wildly, can't seem to utter out what he has to utter out, ashamed of what's supposed to come out. "We just—Harry, we just can't. I needed to distance away from you, or else—"

"Or else  _what_?" Harry snaps, crossing his arms against his chest. Louis supposes, Harry yet is very immature, young and naïve for all this. Also, he always gets what he wants, so he can be demanding like this.

"Or else—or else we'd both go straight to hell!"

"That's bullshit!" Harry maximizes his voice. "Louis— _Lou_ , look at me," Harry rushes forward to Louis and holds each his hand; he brings them to his face and Louis willingly cups his cheeks. "Didn't what we have any significance to you?"

Louis sighs. He can't do this. He just can't.

"H, I'm sorry," he says, voice soft. "I just... can't. We can't. I'm sorry." Taking his hands from Harry's grip, Louis turns around and leaves, going back to his own room and shutting it—this time making sure it's locked.

Harry cries all night from there.

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Comes the next day, they don't dare speak to each other, only a bit of glance perhaps, but nothing more. The next day, it's the same. The day after, they won't come out of their rooms, thinking they'd just stumble upon each other. Arrive the next day, Louis and Harry don't talk again, not anymore do they even give each other the forbidden heart eyes, no. Nothing at all.

They simply refuse to interact now, basically.

Louis can't help cry for the first time on this fifth night, furiously depressed at the loss of contact and communication with his little brother; a brother he's learned to fond over so much now, obsess over, love very much, and crush on with pure lust and malice.

Louis may or may not have finally admitted to himself that he truly is a fucked up now for being infatuated with his own brother before he goes to sleep.

Louis tries not to dream about the boy with the pretty green eyes and sparkling, innocent dimpled smile. He fails.

## ♡

The next day, they still don't talk much—just some casual hi and hello when they bumped to each other by the living area and nothing more—leaving it at that.

Later at night, Harry slips in a note under Louis' door, causing the older brother to bolt right up from his bed to rush towards it. Louis reads it almost immediately, feeling both anxious and hot at the ears. He can feel his heart tugging wildly in his chest.

_Dear Lou-Lou,_   
_I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry. Please let's just go back to normal. I can't take it anymore. I don't want to cry before sleeping anymore. I'm tired of it. I hate crying. Also, I miss you. I so so so so miss you._

_Love,_   
_Hershel Bambi Sweetcheeks Xx_

Louis' breath hitches against his throat as he reads Harry's signature at the bottom, the whole thing making him cry around a silly smile or maybe even sob while simultaneously sporting a dorky grin, he doesn't get himself no more, because fuck, how cute Harry is being right now, really.

Regardless his slowly falling tears, Louis regains all the hope and energy he has, wiping at his face. All this makes him decide all at once—he's coming for Harry.

He's fucking coming for Harry.

Stepping out of his room, Louis runs across the hallway and enters Harry's room in a haste.

The sound of his own door clicking shut has Harry instantaneously shifting from his bed and facing its direction. And just as Harry's anticipated for; Louis' presence.

"Hey," Louis whispers through the dimness of the room.

"Hey," Harry replies, is also whispering.

"May I?" Louis asks beforehand, indicating for lying next to Harry, neutral politeness ensued.

Harry nods, scooting backwards to give way. Louis lies next to him at that.

"So," Harry says.

"So," Louis echoes.

"Read my letter, I suppose?"

"Yep," Louis replies.

"And?"

Louis sidles from his position and faces Harry beside him. "And I miss you too, H. So much," he tells his brother, voice caring and tender and sincere, gaze fixated on the side of Harry's face.

Harry sidles sideways as well, facing his older brother. "You mean it?" he asks, sounding so innocent and naïve. How Louis adores that about him.

Sighing softly, Louis smiles at his brother, bites at his lip and nods his head slightly. "I do. I really do. I've missed your eyes, Haz. I miss your curly hair. I've missed your eyes self, your creepily deep voice for such a beautiful innocent boy, your mouth. I even miss your your dimples and your weird pinky mannerism. And then there is you. I've missed all of you."

Harry is close to tears. He can't help it. He just can't help it. Surging forwards, Harry wraps an arm around Louis' neck and buries his face against his chest. Harry refuses to cry for the umpteenth time in front of his big brother, so he doesn't.

Minutely so, Harry smudges his face, especially his closed eyes, against Louis' shirt, and then looks up at him. "I love you, Lou. Hope we don't fight again," Harry says, voice mildly cracking.

Louis smiles down at him, reaching over and fixing his hair for him. "Of course, baby. I promise not to hurt you anymore."

"Okay..."

They stare at each other for a minute after that, silence washing over them, the entire room itself included, and until the two of them are just eventually leaning in—Louis ducking down and Harry surging up—the two of them finally kissing.

Louis moves his lips against Harry's soft ones, sticking out his tongue and sliding it against the lower part of Harry's lip, tugging at it, willing for it to open. Harry lets him, moving his mouth against Louis' too, parting his lips open, Louis' tongue roaming in his mouth, tongues touching and tasting.

They end the kiss shortly after Louis has pulled away with a loud sucking pop. Harry's only mildly disappointed with it.

Far more beats later, Louis is once again being given head by Harry, one that's undeniably mind-blowing, the two of them not having controlled their inner gods yet again around each other, both willing to have sex, this time in Harry's room, on Harry's bed, all before they fall asleep after they both each suppress an orgasm, both being the sinner brothers that they are once again.

Louis admits only after sex that he'd like the future 23 year-old Harry to be his and only his, and that no one should fuck and should be fucked by him other than Louis himself.

At that Harry's quick and easy on answering, innocently agreeing, thinking he's already in it and oh so sure of it.

A fucking happy smile is the only thing Louis can give, because really, that's exactly what he feels.

It's just them. Always.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> arigathanks for reading! feedback is always nice :)

**Author's Note:**

> i orphaned this work, that i've written back in 2014, by the way, because i don't want to associate myself anymore with the whole underage, fucked up connotation this one is surrounded with. so please refrain yourself from coming to me and saying what i did here was wrong, because i am admitting to it. but again, i'm not going to be creating more like this one, so. should i ever think about writing another fics with such trigger warning, i will make sure not to give them a huge age gap, esp if my younger character will be super young. i'll be making the other one super young too, if that's the case, or perhaps if i will create a gap in them, i will make sure that the younger one is at least 17-18 and above.
> 
> anyway. that is all. byieee.
> 
> \- lou


End file.
